English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

suicide poetry

when night drifts along the streets of the city
i am in love with high far-seeing places
mysterious night
before the solemn bronze saint
that year
there is a country full of wine
i love my hour of wind and light
though i am little as all little things
good woman
give me
we were not many
out of the deep and the dark

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • Send your books to sell, to this bookstore - Listen & Be Heard
  • In Neruda’s Chile, good education eludes masses - Thaindian.com
  • French first lady's new album due in July - Nation
  • Puhallo's poems are for you, pardner (Whistler Question)
  • Author’s earliest work in collection (The Fayetteville Observer)
  • Our 50 favorite magazines (Chicago Tribune)
  • Supporters mark Saddam birthday - Al Jazeera
  • Repeat performances - The Gazette (Montreal)
  • KIRKLAND: Litter along the streets: Is trash a curse or an ... - Lufkin Daily News
  • Children remember father’s pride, care in his work - Rapid City Journal
  • Miley Cyrus is embarrassed, Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt should be ... - Cleveland Plain Dealer
  • The difficult life of Isaac Rosenberg - Daily Telegraph
  • Journey guided by independent thinking - Rockford Register Star
  • Saying Goodbye After All These Years - TheDay
  • Weekend’s best bets for April 25, 2008 - The News-Review
 

Thinking about Refinancing Mortgage?

Home Mortgages

Free Simple Mortgage Calculator

Poetry | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved